The Long Journey to Average
I used to watch the ordinaries
Crowded on their buses
Or queuing in their banks –
Watch with fascination all baldies and the hairies,
The thems to my own usses,
The shufflers to my swanks.
Watching all the many ways that nothing-special varies,
Its minor spats and fusses,
Its local hopes and thanks;
Certain in the knowledge how I’d never join their ranks.
I used to think extr’ordinary
Feats were for my aiming;
I’m, surely, something more.
Now I must accept the truth, so truly sharp and scary:
That I am but a tame thing,
Like those I watched before.
All my efforts cannot reach my heroes’ lofty eyrie.
You must have thought the same thing
When yours too wouldn’t soar.
Genius, it seems to me, must always live next door.